Fletcher, John · published 1610 · first performed or written 1608 [1608-1609] (Annals) pastoral; tragicomedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.83 · 472 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
What thou dare, Tread these forbidden paths, where death and care, Dwell on the face of darkness, 'tis thy friend, Thy Amoret come hither to give end, To these consumings look up gentle Boy, I have forgot those pains, and dear annoy, I suffered for thy sake, and am content, To be thy love again why hast thou rent, Those curled locks, where I have often hung, ribbons and damask Roses, and have flung, Waters distilled to make thee fresh and gay, Sweeter than Nosegays on a Bridal day, Why dost thou cross thine Arms, and hang thy face, Down to thy Bosom, letting fall apace, From those too little Heavens upon the ground Showers of more price, more Orient, & more round Than those that hang upon the moons pale brow Cease these complainings Shepherd I am now, The same, I ever was, as kind and free, And can forgive before you ask of me, Indeed I can, and will. So spoke my fair, O you great working powers of Earth, and Air, Water, and forming fire, why have you lent, Your hidden virtues of so ill intent, Even such a face, so fair so bright of hew, Had Amoret, such, words so smooth and new, Came flowing from her tongue, such was her eye, And such the pointed sparkle that did fly Forth like a bleeding shaft, all is the same, The rob, and Buskins, painted, hook, and frame, Of all her Body O me Amoret, shepherd what means this Riddle who hath set, So strange a difference, twixt myself and me, That I am grown another, look and see. The Ring thou gavest me, and about my wrist. That Curious bracelet thou thyself didst twist. From those fair Tresses, knowest thou Amoret. Hath not some newer love forced thee forget, Thy Ancient faith, Still nearer to my love; These be the very words she oft did prove, Upon my temper, so she still would take, wonder into her face, and silent make, Sings with her head and hand as who would say shepherd remember this another day: Am I not Amoret. where was I lost, Can there be Heaven, and time, and men most Of these unconstant? faith where art thou fled? Are all the vows and protestations dead: The hands held up? the wishes and the heart? Is there not one remaining not apart, Of all these to be found why then I see: Men never knew that virtue constancy Men ever were most blessed, till Cross fate, Brought love, and women forth unfortunate, To all that ever tasted of their smiles, Whose Actions are all double, full of wiles, Like to the subtle Hare, that fore the Hounds, Makes many turnings leaps and many rounds, This way and that way, to deceive the scent, Of her pursuers:
nodes 1845–1907 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 40 in this edition
Length
472 words · 619 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.828 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What thou dare, Tread theise forbydden pathes, where death and care, Dwell on the face of darcknes, Tis thy friend, Thy Amoret come hether to giue end, To theise consuminges looke vpp gentle Boye, I haue forgot those paynes, and deare annoy, I sufferd for thy sake, and am content, To bee thy loue againe why hast thou rent, Those curled lockes, wher I haue often hunge, Ribandes and damaske Roses, and haue flunge, Waters distilld to make thee fresh and gaye, Sweeter then Nose-gayes on a Bridall daye, Why dost thou crosse thyne Armes, and hang thy face, Downe to thy Boosome, letting fall apace, From those too little Heauens vppon the ground Showres of more price, more Orient, & more round Then those that hange vppon the moones pale browe Cease theise complainings Sheapheard I am nowe, The same, I euer was, as kinde and free, And can forgiue before you aske of mee, Indeed I can, and will. Soe spoke my fayre, O you great working powers of Earth, and Ayre, Water, and forming fier, why haue you lent, Your hydden vertues of so ill intent, Euen such aface, so fayre so bright of hewe, Had Amoret, such, words soe smooth and newe, Came flowing from her tongue, such was her eye, And such the poynted sparckle that did flye Forth like a bleeding shaft, all is the same, The Robe, and Buskins, painted, hooke, and frame, Of all her Body O mee Amoret, Sheapeard what meanes this Riddle who hath sett, So strange a difference, twixt my selfe and mee, That I am growne annother, looke and see. The Ring thou gauest mee, and about my wrest. That Curious Braeslet thou thy selfe didst twist. From those fayre Tresses, knowest thou Amoret. Hath not some newer loue forced thee forget, Thy Auncient fayth, Still nearer to my loue; Theise be the very words shee oft did proue, Vppon my temper, so shee still wod take, wonder into her face, and silent make, Singes whith her head and hand as who wod saye Sheapeard remember this annother daye: Am I not Amoret. where was I lost, Can there be Heauen, and time, and men most Of theise vnconstant? fayth where art thou fled? Are all the vowes and protestations dead: The hands held vpp? the wishes and the hart? Is ther not one remayningne not apart, Of all theise to bee found why then I see: Men neuer knewe that vertue constancye Men euer were most blessed, till Crosse fate, Brought loue, and woemen forth vnfortunate, To all that euer tasted of their smiles, Whose Actions are all double, full of wiles, Like to the subtill Hare, that fore the Houndes, Makes many turnings leapes and many roundes, This waye aud that waye, to deceaue the sent, Of her prsuers: